//------------------------------// // Chapter 7 // Story: Whatever Way the Wind Takes You // by kudzuhaiku //------------------------------// From the journal of Gloomy August— You meet the most amazing creatures when traveling. I got to meet Hachikō and he told me the most amazing stories. We sat by the campfire all night long and he told me all about his homeland. I wish I could remember what it is called, but I can’t. His home has a few problems and sure, there is a bit of a war, but I’m positive that everything will work out okay in the long run. Surely his fellow diamond dogs will see that all that nasty bad violence isn’t getting them anywhere and is hurting them. Hachikō himself is a very nice doggy. He scratched me behind my ears while we talked and he petted me and I got to tell him about how I flew into the storm and I discovered how brave I was. He’s really interesting and I hope he finds whatever he is looking for. He’s trying to find something called ‘the way of the bushido’ but I’m not sure which direction it’s in and I’ve never heard of such a thing before. I think it might be a mountain pass, because it sounds dangerous and hard. When I told him, he laughed and told me that it was okay, he would find it sooner or later on his own. He has given his word that he will escort Gleamgood and Picklesworth to the Crystal Empire and that he will keep them safe. I was kind of worried about the two ponies, they can’t fly away from trouble and there are spooky, scary, nasty bad things lurking in the mountains. Like yetis and abominable snow ponies and yaks with bad attitudes. I feel bad for ponies that can’t fly away from danger. Picklesworth and Hachikō talked for a bit. I had trouble understanding what they said, but Picklesworth is a really deep pony. He’s a good pony and he and Hachikō talked about being honourable for a while. Picklesworth almost seemed like he was in a good mood. I think it was because I’ve been so nice to him. See, it does pay to be nice. It’s going to be hard to say goodbye to my new friends, but I must go where the wind wills me. The road was all uphill as the traveling companions approached the tunnel. It was still some ways ahead, but drawing closer with every step. Feral clouds rolled in overhead, dark, grey, fluffy clouds that held the potential for rain. Gloomy kept a wary eye upon the clouds, remembering all too well the powerful feral storm she had flown into. She did not want her friends swept up in a sudden flood. Once in the tunnel, they would be fine, safe from any torrential downpours. Gloomy would not be joining them in the tunnel, she planned to fly away. She needed to fly. It was like an itch now. Something had changed inside of her, she now had some strange need, some compulsion, a powerful primal force that she didn’t understand. Gloomy was far more in touch with nature now; she knew which way was north by feel alone. She could feel the changes in the barometric pressure as they happened. Living her humdrum day to day life in Ponyville had caused her to go numb. She had existed from day to day, doing her job, and she now knew that she had lost touch with what it meant to be a pegasus at some point. Now, she was rediscovering all of her slumbering instincts. She was growing, changing, she was having an awakening. Hachikō played the banjo as they walked together and the diamond dog kept a watchful eye on the woods around them. The road meandered through the trees, it had smooth, gentle curves and the ruts weren’t very deep. It was easy to pull a wagon along the road, even though it was uphill, and they made good time. Walking left her hoofsies sore and her frogs ached. Gloomy endured though, having friends around more than made up for all of the walking she was doing. Picklesworth proved to be a far better companion than one might think upon first meeting him. He was a little grumpy, sure, but he was a great pony. He was just a little gruff. Gleamgood was a generous, genial sort. As she trotted along, she thought about Yam, Taro, Ginger Root, and Harvest Moon. She thought about how one pegasus had made a difference. She thought about Warden Wormwood, handsome Warden Wormwood. Okay, he might look a little scary, but something about him was still handsome and kind of hunky. She thought back to Ponyville and the ponies that lived there. She tried to think of all of the ponies she knew by name, but came up short. She woke up every day, went to work, got through the day, and went home. She had a slow moment of realisation that she didn’t know that many ponies. She knew Rainbow Dash, her boss, and she knew Twilight, sort of, but everypony knew Twilight. She had acquaintances, and that was about it. When she went home, she needed to change that. There was a growing sense of unease within Gloomy. Had she made mistakes? She was beginning to think so. She was warm, she was friendly, she hugged other ponies—but she didn’t know them. She just existed with them. She felt closer to her new friends than she did with most of her acquaintances in Ponyville. She had her optimism, her winning personality, but she hadn’t done much in the way of making meaningful friendships. What would the Princess of Friendship say? She looked over at Hachikō for a moment and then turned her gaze back to the road ahead. Her saddlebags slapped against her sides, leaving her a bit sore and worn. She was learning how to pack them better each time she made camp. Life on the road was different. There was an almost constant state of hunger, a gnawing in one’s belly, a cramp that never seemed to go away. At least, that was how it was for Gloomy. She was a plush, well insulated creature, but she had a feeling that if she kept walking and flying the way she was, she was going to be a little less plush and well insulated. Already, she could feel that some of her jiggly places were a little less jiggly. She liked her plush little tummy and she would miss it when it was gone. “Little pegasus Miss?” Gloomy blinked, turned her head, and looked over at Hachikō. He was still plucking on his banjo, but he had reduced his volume. It was now something to keep his paw fingers busy and provide a little background noise. “You look as though you are deep in thought,” Hachikō said to Gloomy. “I was,” Gloomy replied as she trotted along, “just trying to sort stuff out.” Her voice was chipper but also a bit subdued. “I realised that I know ponies at home, but I don’t actually know them. I was kinda realising that I’m real friendly, I’m nice to ponies, but beyond that, I don’t actually take much time to get to know them. I know more about you three than I do about the ponies I know back home.” “We retreat into our houses, we revel in our comfort, we hide behind the walls of our dwellings, and we take solace with our many possessions.” Hachikō’s face wrinkled and his ears drooped as he scowled. “Since leaving my home and roaming the earth, my knowledge of others has improved. Time spent around a campfire is time spent getting to know your fellow creatures.” “Yeah.” Gloomy nodded. “Yeah it is. How is it that we can live in cities but still be so lonely?” The pegasus paused and reconsidered her words. “Well, at least some of us. I think that’s why I left home. I didn’t really feel connected to anything. I live around all these ponies but there really isn’t anything that holds me to Ponyville. I’m not sure how to put it into words.” “With the road comes reflection. With reflection comes depth. To walk a winding road frees us from the distractions of civilisation. We have no choice to but to turn inwards and examine ourselves, and we do it for the lack of anything else to do as we walk.” The diamond dog’s scowl became something of a smile. “We become vagabond philosophers. The road teaches us what many go to school to learn. We learn through hardship, through endurance, we learn through discomfort and shared fellowship with others what foolish kings pay a ransom to shifty wise men to find out.” Gloomy was lost; Hachikō’s words went right over her head and she had trouble taking them all in. It sounded good though, so she nodded just to be agreeable. “Filthy sophists. They were the ruination of my home. When education and learning became a commodity to be bought and sold, far too many became stingy with knowledge. It lead to a shameful state of affairs.” Hachikō frowned again, shook his head, and stopped playing his banjo. “The cost of education here in Equestria grows steadily. It’s getting harder and harder for a pony to get the learning they need.” Picklesworth’s voice was almost grating as he complained and he let out a stodgy snort. “Teachers deserve a fair salary and shouldn’t have to work for free,” Gleamgood said, joining the conversation. “I’m all for fair wages for teachers,” Picklesworth replied, “and they should be paid well, but universities and colleges have become all about profits. They keep charging more and more, while professors and teachers are getting paid less and less. If you compare pay rates now with the pay rates that educators had, say, thirty years ago, and took all the fancy mathematics into account, you would see that wages for educators have dropped. It’s shameful.” “You continue to surprise me, my friend,” Gleamgood said to the earth pony walking beside him. “Bah.” Picklesworth snorted again and his ears sagged against the sides of his head. “There’s a reason I’m so cranky.” “See?” Hachikō gestured with his paw at the earth pony. “This is the sort of thing learned upon the road. Fascinating, is it not?” He looked at Gloomy, his wet, shiny nose twitching, and his tail wagging. “I… uh…” Gloomy’s words trailed off. She did not understand what was being said. “Yeah, I guess so.” When Gloomy got home, she was going to start reading more books. That was all there was too it. She would ask Twilight for a recommended reading list to get smarter and better informed. She felt awkward and out of place, but it did not dampen her spirits. Gloomy was like a candle that could not be snuffed out. It just filled her with determination to get better and make improvements. When she was home and had an opportunity, the first thing she would do was find out what ‘sophist’ meant. It seemed as good of a starting point as any. Sophists sounded dangerous and bad, if Hachikō didn’t like them. Perhaps they were some type of monster? “Hachikō…” Staring straight ahead, Gloomy spoke to her companion without looking at him. “How does one live a good life? I mean, from how you see things?” “Hmm,” Hachikō hummed in reply, “hmm hmm hmm.” Patient, Gloomy waited, knowing that she would be rewarded with an answer. If it took time to think about, it would probably be a good answer. Picklesworth had gone silent and Gleamgood was looking off to his left at a patch of wildflowers at the side of the road. “It helps to have a definable foe. An enemy. Something one can strive against, improve oneself, a constant state of betterment so that one can be better than what they work against. An enemy can be literal or figurative… a monster or a concept that they wish to oppose. Beyond that, do good, help others, live in service, never retreat…” the diamond dog’s words trailed off. “I have retreated. I am not worthy to give advice.” “But you are here, in this place, able to tell me the secret of how to live a better life. A good life.” Gloomy swallowed and sucked in a deep breath. “I have an enemy. I don’t like feral storms. I learned that. It threw stuff at me, tried to kill me, and tried to kill a bunch of ponies. It threw a stove at me! And a chimney!” The tall diamond dog turned and stared at the much shorter pony as he walked. “And I didn’t retreat from the storm, even during the worst of it. I flew upwards, or tried to, so I could rise above it… it was hard though. The feral storm really didn’t want me surviving it.” Gloomy considered her words and then added, “Or rising above it. I suppose there is some greater symbolism there with that act. I fought to rise above it.” Hearing her own words, Gloomy felt clever. She might not know what a sophist was, but she still felt clever. She beamed, feeling good about herself, her spirits buoyed. Perhaps she should study a map and try to find this ‘way of the bushido.’ It might do her some good. If she found it, she could go around telling ponies what a wonderful journey she had made and what she had found at the end of it. After a short silence, Hachikō spoke, his brows furrowed, his tail wagged both low and wide. “Some little pony has found wisdom on the road…”